APDL Eductation Resources/APDL Eductation Resources.iso/text/authors/poe/conversatn/CONVERSATN

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            The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion


                                        EURIPIDES, Andromache
                   'I will bring fire to thee.'

EIROS.  Why do you call me Eiros?

CHARMION.  So henceforth will you always be called.  You must forget,
too, my earthly name, and speak to me as Charmion.

EIROS.  This is indeed no dream!

CHARMION.  Dreams are with us no more; but of these mysteries anon.  I
rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational.  The film of the
shadow has already passed from off your eyes.  Be of heart, and fear
nothing.  Your allotted days of stupor have expired; and, to-morrow, I
will myself induct you into the full joys and wonders of your novel
existence.

EIROS.  True, I feel no stupor, none at all.  The wild sickness and the
terrible darkness have left me, and I hear no longer that mad, rushing,
horrible sound, 'like the voice of many waters'.  Yet my senses are
bewildered, Charmion, with the keenness of their perception of the new.

CHARMION.  A few days will remove all this;--but I fully understand you,
and feel for you.  It is now ten earthly years since I underwent what
you undergo, yet the remembrance of it hangs by me still.  You have now
suffered all of pain, however, which you will suffer in Aidenn.

EIROS.  In Aidenn?

CHARMION.  In Aidenn.

EIROS.  Oh, God!--pity me, Charmion!--I am overburdened with the majesty
of all things--of the unknown now known--of the speculative Future
merged in the august and certain Present.

CHARMION.  Grapple not now with such thoughts.  To-morrow we will speak
of this.  Your mind wavers, and its agitations will find relief in the
exercise of simple memories.  Look not around, nor forward--but back.  I
am burning with anxiety to hear the details of that stupendous event
which threw you among us.  Tell me of it.  Let us converse of familiar
things, in the old familiar language of the world which has so fearfully
perished.

EIROS.  Most fearfully, fearfully!--this is indeed no dream.

CHARMION.  Dreams are no more.  Was I much mourned, my Eiros?

EIROS.  Mourned, Charmion?--oh, deeply.  To that last hour of all, there
hung a cloud of intense gloom and devout sorrow over your household.

CHARMION.  And that last hour--speak of it.  Remember that, beyond the
naked fact of the catastrophe itself, I know nothing.  When, coming out
from among mankind, I passed into Night through the Grave--at that
period, if I remember aright, the calamity which overwhelmed you was
utterly unanticipated.  But, indeed, I knew little of the speculative
philosophy of the day.

EIROS.  The individual calamity was, as you say, entirely unanticipated;
but analogous misfortunes had been long a subject of discussion with
astronomers.  I need scarce tell you, my friend, that even when you left
us, men had agreed to understand those passages in the most holy
writings which speak of the final destruction of all things by fire, as
having reference to the orb of the earth alone.  But in regard to the
immediate agency of the ruin, speculation had been at fault from that
epoch in astronomical knowledge in which the comets were divested of the
terrors of flame.  The very moderate density of these bodies had been
well established.  They had been observed to pass among the satellites
of Jupiter, without bringing about any sensible alteration either in the
masses or in the orbits of these secondary planets.  We had long
regarded the wanderers as vapoury creations of inconceivable tenuity,
and as altogether incapable of doing injury to our substantial globe,
even in the event of contact.  But contact was not in any degree
dreaded; for the elements of all the comets were accurately known.  That
among <i them we should look for the agency of the threatened fiery
destruction had been for many years considered an inadmissible idea.
But wonders and wild fancies had been, of late days, strangely rife
among mankind; and although it was only with a few of the ignorant that
actual apprehension prevailed, upon the announcement by astronomers of a
new comet, yet this announcement was generally received with I know not
what of agitation and mistrust.

The elements of the strange orb were immediately calculated, and it was
at once conceded by all observers, that its path, at perihelion, would
bring it into very close proximity with the earth.  There were two or
three astronomers, of secondary note, who resolutely maintained that a
contact was inevitable.  I cannot very well express to you the effect of
this intelligence upon the people.  For a few short days they would not
believe an assertion which their intellect, so long employed among
worldly considerations, could not in any manner grasp.  But the truth of
a vitally important fact soon makes its way into the understanding of
even the most stolid.  Finally, all men saw that astronomical knowledge
lied not, and they awaited the comet.  Its approach was not, at first,
seemingly rapid; nor was its appearance of very unusual character.  It
was of a dull red, and had little perceptible train.  For seven or eight
days we saw no material increase in its apparent diameter, and but a
partial alteration in its colour.  Meanwhile the ordinary affairs of men
were discarded, and all interests absorbed in a growing discussion,
instituted by the philosophic, in respect to the cometary nature.  Even
the grossly ignorant aroused their sluggish capacities to such
considerations.  The learned now gave their intellect--their soul--to
such points as the allaying of fear, or to the sustenance of loved
theory.  They sought--they panted for right views.  They groaned for
perfected knowledge.  Truth arose in the purity of her strength and
exceeding majesty, and the wise bowed down and adored.

That material injury to our globe or to its inhabitants would result
from the apprehended contact, was an opinion which hourly lost ground
among the wise; and the wise were now freely permitted to rule the
reason and the fancy of the crowd.  It was demonstrated, that the
density of the comet's nucleus was far less than that of our rarest gas;
and the harmless passage of a similar visitor among the satellites of
Jupiter was a point strongly insisted upon, and which served greatly to
allay terror.  Theologists, with an earnestness fear-enkindled, dwelt
upon the biblical prophecies, and expounded them to the people with a
directness and simplicity of which no previous instance had been known.
That the final destruction of the earth must be brought about by the
agency of fire, was urged with a spirit that enforced everywhere
conviction; and that the comets were of no fiery nature (as all men now
knew) was a truth which relieved all, in a great measure, from the
apprehension of the great calamity foretold.  It is noticeable that the
popular prejudices and vulgar errors in regard to pestilences and
wars--errors which were wont to prevail upon every appearance of a
comet--were now altogether unknown.  As if by some sudden convulsive
exertion, reason had at once hurled superstition from her throne.  The
feeblest intellect had derived vigour from excessive interest.

What minor evils might arise from the contact were points of elaborate
question.  The learned spoke of slight geological disturbances, of
probable alterations in climate, and consequently in vegetation; of
possible magnetic and electric influences.  Many held that no visible or
perceptible effect would in any manner be produced.  While such
discussions were going on, their subject gradually approached, growing
larger in apparent diameter, and of a more brilliant lustre.  Mankind
grew paler as it came.  All human operations were suspended.

There was an epoch in the course of the general sentiment when the comet
had attained, at length, a size surpassing that of any previously
recorded visitation.  The people now, dismissing any lingering hope that
the astronomers were wrong, experienced all the certainty of evil.  The
chimerical aspect of their terror was gone.  The hearts of the stoutest
of our race beat violently within their bosoms.  A very few days
sufficed, however, to merge even such feelings in sentiments more
unendurable.  We could no longer apply to the strange orb any accustomed
thoughts.  Its historical attributes had disappeared.  It oppressed us
with a hideous novelty of emotion.  We saw it not as an astronomical
phenomenon in the heavens, but as an incubus upon our hearts, and a
shadow upon our brains.  It had taken, with inconceivable rapidity, the
character of a gigantic mantle of rare flame, extending from horizon to
horizon.

Yet a day, and men breathed with greater freedom.  It was clear that we
were already within the influence of the comet; yet we lived.  We even
felt an unusual elasticity of frame and vivacity of mind.  The exceeding
tenuity of the object of our dread was apparent; for all heavenly
objects were plainly visible through it.  Meantime, our vegetation had
perceptibly altered; and we gained faith, from this predicted
circumstance, in the foresight of the wise.  A wild luxuriance of
foliage, utterly unknown before, burst out upon every vegetable thing.

Yet another day--and the evil was not altogether upon us.  It was now
evident that its nucleus would first reach us.  A wild change had come
over all men; and the first sense of pain was the wild signal for
general lamentation and horror.  This first sense of pain lay in a
rigorous constriction of the breast and lungs, and an insufferable
dryness of the skin.  It could not be denied that our atmosphere was
radically affected; the conformation of this atmosphere and the possible
modifications to which it might be subjected, were now the topics of
discussion.  The result of investigation sent an electric thrill of the
intensest horror through the universal heart of man.

It had been long known that the air which encircled us was a compound of
oxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of twenty-one measures of
oxygen, and seventy-nine of nitrogen, in every one hundred of the
atmosphere.  Oxygen, which was the principle of combustion, and the
vehicle of heat, was absolutely necessary to the support of animal life,
and was the most powerful and energetic agent in nature.  Nitrogen, on
the contrary, was incapable of supporting either animal life or flame.
An unnatural excess of oxygen would result, it had been ascertained, in
just such an elevation of the animal spirits as we had latterly
experienced.  It was the pursuit, the extension of the idea, which had
engendered awe.  What would be the result of a total extraction of the
nitrogen?  A combustion irresistible, all-devouring, omni-prevalent,
immediate;--the entire fulfilment, in all their minute and terrible
details, of the fiery and horror-inspiring denunciations of the
prophecies of the Holy Book.

Why need I paint, Charmion, the now disenchained frenzy of mankind?
That tenuity in the comet which had previously inspired us with hope,
was now the source of the bitterness of despair.  In its impalpable
gaseous character we clearly perceived the consummation of Fate.
Meantime a day again passed, bearing away with it the last shadow of
Hope.  We gasped in the rapid modification of the air.  The red blood
bounded tumultuously through its strict channels.  A furious delirium
possessed all men; and, with arms rigidly outstretched towards the
threatening heavens, they trembled and shrieked aloud.  But the nucleus
of the destroyer was now upon us: even here in Aidenn, I shudder while I
speak.  Let me be brief--brief as the ruin that overwhelmed.  For a
moment there was a wild lurid light alone, visiting and penetrating all
things.  Then--let us bow down, Charmion, before the excessive majesty
of the great God!--then, there came a shouting and pervading sound, as
if from the mouth itself of HIM; while the whole incumbent mass of ether
in which we existed, burst at once into a species of intense flame, for
whose surpassing brilliancy and all-fervid heat even the angels in the
high Heaven of pure knowledge have no name.  Thus ended all.